An Understanding
by Ellie79
Summary: Shortly after the events of Dalek, Rose and the Doctor remain haunted and sleepless. When they bump into each other in the middle of the night, can they come to an understanding?


**An Understanding**

**-----**

Darkness filled the TARDIS, cool and still. It was quiet, save for the rhythmic humming from deep within its core. They floated in a state of nothingness, nowhere and in no time, surrounded by nothing but the billions of little pinpoints that stood as the sole place markers of other worlds. It wasn't often that he stopped since he was usually always hopping from one world to the next without so much as a thought of rest. The rest he afforded them now was simply for the benefit of his human companions. Silence – the stillness that filled his rooms and roared mercilessly loud over the gentle humming – had never been a friend. It spoke lies to him as he feigned sleep, never allowing him true rest. It reminded him of how much he was to blame, of how many were snuffed out in the wars because of him. After the Dalek, the silence had only grown worse. It haunted, persisted, and tortured him with words he could not forget, would not forget.

_"Your race is dead; you all burned, all of you! Ten million ships on fire...the entire Dalek race wiped out in one second!"_

_"YOU LIE!"_

_"I watched it happen! I made it happen!"_

_"You destroyed us?"_

He'd had no choice. And even as he said it, he felt the sickness growing.

_"What of the Time Lords?"_

_"Dead. They burned with you. The end of the last great Time War...everyone lost."_

He was alone in the universe. No matter how many worlds he visited, how far he travelled, how fast he went, it was inescapable. His eyes stung as he lay in the heavy silence of the TARDIS, and he ground his palms hard into his closed eyes to rid him of the discomfort, to try and push back the beast that welled up from deep within him, that threatened to consume him. It was useless – he couldn't lie like this; sleep would never come. He forced himself up and paced the length of the room, back and forth. It was monotonous and did little to soothe his raging mind. In his frustration, he drove his fist into the hard wall without making so much as a dent and cursed violently under his breath. This would not do.

* * *

Rose had seen Adam to his rooms. She would have been a liar if she had said she had not noticed the longing in his eyes, the little twitch at the corner of his mouth, the ghost of a smile as he'd said goodnight, the hesitancy with which he'd said it. Waiting. Hoping. And though part of her might have admitted to its appeal, right now as the stillness of an artificial evening fell on her, she felt the weight and the weariness of what she'd been through. It hit without warning, and suddenly the thought of staying, of seeing where anything would lead, left her feeling nauseated. She quickly made her excuses and found she couldn't remove herself from his presence fast enough. She stifled a gag as she turned swiftly around. She waited until after rounding a corner had hidden her safely from his sight before taking off in a sprint toward her own rooms. She'd barely made it to the toilet in time.

Wiping her face with a cloth grasped loosely in her still-singed hand, Rose pushed herself up from the floor with the other. With shaky steps, she crossed the small space and looked at herself in the mirror. She swigged a quick gulp of water and spit it out, looking back up at her reflection.

Tired lines pulled at the corners of her eyes, and she looked so pale. She couldn't erase the memory of the Dalek – that it was her DNA, and her touch that set it loose. It had just wanted to be free, she had told herself, that's all, and then her touch had turned it into something else.

"_Isn't that better?"_

"_Not for a Dalek."_

She couldn't feel remorse for it, this sickness inside; it wasn't right. All those people, all of them dead because of the Dalek... No, because of her. She felt the bile rising again and pushed it back down, stumbling through the open doorway to remove herself as quickly as possible from the sick feeling and the cold sterile metal of the toilet. She couldn't keep thinking about it, couldn't dwell on what happened. It wasn't her fault. She grabbed her night robe and wrapped the sash tightly around her waist and crossed her arms over her chest. Taking a deep breath, she cautiously opened her door and slid silently into the darkness of the halls.

Rose followed the humming and the familiar green glow of the console, the only real visible light from her present vantage point. Her bare feet absorbed the coolness from the metal floor forcing a sudden shiver, and she pulled her arms tighter, tucking an errant strand of hair behind her ear. This was better, she thought. She could breathe so much easier in the openness of the room.

Walking slowly around the room, she let her fingers graze the walls. She pressed her cheek to a metal support, hoping to pull out the flush from her earlier episode. Sighing heavily, she leaned back against the wall and let herself slide slowly to the floor. She gazed around languidly, letting her mind run blissfully blank. Her tired eyelids fell moments later of their own accord.

* * *

He stood motionless where the dark shadows of the hallway flirted with the glow of the console, on the other side of the room from where she had entered. He had his arms drawn over his chest, and one leg crossed in front of the other, the toe of his right shoe propped up at an angle against the floor. His face was drawn, and he leaned his weight heavily against the metal framing. His eyes betrayed his emotionless face, however; a hundred different thoughts and feelings flickered and stormed in their depths.

It was a blessing really that she was not aware of his presence and could not see the intensity in his gaze. He thought bitterly for a moment of what it would be like to let go of the resolve, to put away the shield that hid his eyes from her the very moment she would cast a glance in his direction. He had schooled his features perfectly, knew just what facial expressions to tease with, without giving anything away. It was a gift really. The only way to protect himself from years of pain and regret was to chain it deep inside, to share it with no one.

"_I'm the only survivour. I'm left travelling on my own 'cause there's no one else."_

"_There's me..."_

He was alone, always alone. So many companions had come and gone, yet here this one had come to be so important to him. She had all but pledged her eternal devotion to him, and he couldn't fathom why. He couldn't understand why she trusted him so completely. How many times had he almost gotten her killed? His chest ached with the memory...

"_See you then, Doctor."_

"_It's not your fault."_

"_I wouldn't have missed it for the world."_

She was ready to die, no questions asked. He didn't understand and didn't deserve her loyalty. If she only knew the things he'd seen, the things he'd done, all that he'd willingly sacrificed in his 900 years...

He hadn't earned her trust, her friendship, but he did need it. He ought to return her home, make her forget him, go on with a life where she'd be safe and loved, and he wouldn't have to worry about her anymore. He ought to, but he wouldn't. Deep down, he realized that at his core, he was truly selfish when it came to Rose Tyler. So instead, here he stood, leaning against a wall, watching her sleep, and thinking he'd never needed anyone or anything so much in his entire existence. It was a strange feeling, and he was both curious and scared to know what it meant.

* * *

Rose startled slightly, and her eyes darted about, trying to remember where she was. How long had she been sleeping? She hadn't meant to doze off; she had merely needed to get away for a bit from the stifling closeness of her room. As she sat there on the floor, the cold permeating every part of her, and she became increasingly restless and unsettled, the little hairs on the backs of her arms and neck standing on end. She picked herself up quickly from the floor, wanly brushing phantom dust from her backside before turning back towards the hall. She stared straight ahead, but she couldn't make her feet move.

Down that hall and in her room were all the demons and memories that would keep her awake, and she just couldn't face it again. And as if the mere thought were an open invitation, suddenly it came back to greet her in one all-consuming wave. The grief and the guilt and the relief that she wasn't dead all congealed into a finite point, and she was only vaguely aware of the quick sob that wracked her frame as her knees hit the hard floor.

Almost in an instant, he was by her side. It was a knee-jerk reaction, and he couldn't have prevented himself if he had tried. "Rose." It was a plea, aching with sadness and frustration and anger all in one strong emotion. He was angry that he couldn't have saved her from the pain and the guilt. And he ached so fiercely to see her in pain. In this one moment, he would do anything to take it from her.

She didn't acknowledge him at first but then slowly turned shocked and tear-filled wide eyes in his direction. "I'm sorry..." she said mournfully as she started to push herself up. "I thought I was the only one here."

He said nothing, only reached down to grab her hand, his rough one encircling hers completely. He pulled her up from the floor slowly but firmly, his eyes never shifting from their joined hands. She flicked her eyes from his face to their hands, confusion plainly evident in her tear-streaked features. They stood close; she could feel his faint body heat in contrast to the cold, sterile metal that surrounded them. He was running slow circles over the outside of her hand with the pad of his thumb, his features deeply twisted in thought or anguish, she couldn't tell which. She couldn't even think.

"Rose," he breathed softly. "I'm so sorry. I didn't know what to do." He stopped, his voice failing him. "I couldn't...I couldn't let them all die...I didn't..." The emotion bubbled up, his voice thick and deep with regret.

"Shhh." She gazed at his face imploringly, willing him to meet her eyes.

When he finally did, he dropped her hand, his rising to move a stray strand of blond hair, but he failed miserably, so it instead landed softly on her cheek. She thought her heart might break at the pain she saw inside him. She had never seen it so close to the surface before. It was always there – she could feel it – but he would never let her see it. A tear escaped, rushing down her cheek, and he swiped it away with his thumb. He used his hand to pull her tightly against his chest, his chin resting on top of her head.

"I thought I'd lost you."

She buried her face in his shoulder, taking a deep shaking breath. There was so much pain, so much hurt. Some of it was hers; some of it was from him. All she could think was that she had to do something to take it away, to let him know he didn't have to fight alone anymore. She wasn't going anywhere. But more than anything, she needed to know that he still wanted her there. Did he blame her for all those deaths? Lord knew she blamed herself, and if he even so much as thought... Oh God. Rose squeezed her eyes and pushed back sharply against his chest, breaking the closeness of the embrace.

"Rose...?" he questioned uncertainly, his voice low.

She couldn't look in his eyes, didn't want to see if how he looked at her had changed. "Doctor..." she started, looking everywhere but at him. "I need to know if you think...if you blame me?"

He stood silent, eyes darkening, the muscles in his jaw tightening.

"Look..." She took a couple more steps back and met solid wall. She pressed one hand against the cold metal to stabilize herself and continued, "All those people back there, the Dalek killed them, yeah?" Her voice grew watery and weak, fresh tears brimming to the surface. "The Dalek that _I set free_. If I'm no good to you here, Doctor, if you blame me for all those people that...then I need to know. And I need you to bring me back home before...before, I kill anyone else."

The Doctor squeezed his eyes closed, his jaw alternately clenching and releasing, a look Rose had seen before and recognized immediately. Anger. When he opened his eyes, the fire she saw behind those blue eyes killed any question she might have asked.

He stared at her before speaking, waiting for her to meet his eyes. "Look at me." His voice was low and dangerous, and she shivered despite herself before slowly drawing her eyes from the interesting patch of floor they had been riveted to. He held her gaze, and the intensity of it almost burned her.

"Let me ask you something, Rose Tyler. What do you see when you look at me?"

She saw his fury building, and she was too afraid to answer, didn't know how to even begin. "I...I dunno." It was weak, barely a whisper. She felt ashamed and quickly pulled her eyes away again.

"I said look at me!"

It was almost a growl, and she winced as he roughly grabbed her chin and turned her face back towards his.

"What do you see? Am I like your Mickey? Do I look like a good man to you? Do you think that I'm some kind of hero?" He shot the questions at her rapid-fire.

She stood rooted to the spot and absolutely silent as a tear slid down her cheek.

"Dammit, Rose!" The Doctor cursed quickly in some language she didn't understand and slammed his fist against the wall next to her. She stifled a sob, tears flowing freely now, and stared at him. His hand still lay pressed in a fist against the wall, his eyes shut as he tried to regain his composure.

He opened them slowly and repositioned himself so that he was propped up against the wall with his hands, one on each side of Rose so that she had no choice but to look straight at him.

He kept his voice low, but it still carried the same hard edge. "I'm no hero, Rose. I'm not a good man, and I'm certainly no Mickey. I've killed people – lots of 'em, in point of fact. It was always with some excuse of it being for the greater good or because I had no choice. Which who knew now what was the truth and what wasn't. But don't you _dare _ask me if I blame you for a couple of human deaths after the massacres I've caused. I've levelled entire races. I've no right to judge anybody, least of all you, understand?"

She nodded her head, sniffling slightly, and something shifted in his gaze. He pulled his left hand away from the wall and brushed her hair back from her face, wiping away stray tears, and lingering on her cheek slightly before falling to her shoulder. He leaned in and kissed her temple lightly. He pulled back slightly and spoke almost in a whisper, his warm breath tickling her ear and sending chills racing down her spine.

"I'm sorry, Rose. I just need you to understand."

He leaned away and rested his hands lightly on her shoulders, his face deadly serious, while maintaining eye contact. "We're never going to be safe, Rose. I can't promise you anything. I can't promise that no one will ever die because of the choices that we have to make out here. I can't promise your mum that I can bring you back home in ten seconds." He paused, his voice straining with emotion. "I can't even promise to protect you, that what happened in Utah won't happen again. I'm not safe, Rose, and if you want to stay with me, you need to understand me."

Her tears stopped, and she took a deep breath, gathering strength. "No one's safe. Not you, not me. I'm not lookin' for any promises from you, and I'm not going anywhere, Doctor." Her voice was clear and firm. "You understand me?" she asked in return, echoing his previous question.

He nodded, and it was all she needed. She pushed herself away from the wall and launched herself into his arms. He returned the embrace with equal ferocity, drawing strength from her touch and from the realization that he really didn't have to do this alone anymore. They couldn't make any promises, but he wouldn't worry about tomorrow. Right now he had Rose, and she wasn't leaving him.

After a long minute, he pulled back slightly, their arms still locked around each other's waists, and touched his forehead to hers. He drank in every feature of her face – her dimples, her shy smile, her beautiful eyes – and knew that she meant more to him than he could ever say. His features darkened, consumed by a powerful hunger she had never seen in him before. She understood completely when he quickly asked in a whisper, "No promises?" and nodded her assent. Within seconds, his lips came crashing down on hers, full of need and desire. They pulled each other as close as possible, tongues intertwining, hands roaming greedily. At first all hunger and lust, the kisses eventually slowed, drawing longer and more tender, all sense of space and time completely lost.

After a long time, her bare feet on the metal finally getting the best of her, Rose shivered, and the Doctor laughed lightly. Both their cheeks flushed.

"Come on, Rose Tyler; let's get you to bed." And he had the audacity to wink.

"You think you're so impressive."

"I know I am."

**FIN**


End file.
